Category Archives: education

Looking Through You: The Beatles and Critical Pedagogy

I’ve been in serious Beatles mode lately. You can chalk it up to the full court press marketing effort behind the recent remasters and Rock Band if you’d like.  In any case, as I have been re-listening through the discography, I’ve been drawn to some of the songwriting refrains that pop up now and then. Most explicitly, I’m excited by the way that I think the Beatles represent aspects of Critical Pedagogy within their catalogue.

I am pleased by the dialectical nature of many of the later Beatles songs. Though I don’t claim to be an expert on their songwriting practices, looking at the writing credits as well as post-Beatles albums, I’d attribute most of this trend to John Lennon. [While I’ll generally appreciate the patient, spiritual acceptance of circumstance that plods throughout George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass, I think that Lennon comes across as the more needed voice apropos critical pedagogy.]

The dialectic at the heart of many Beatles songs is one that finds discussion of differing viewpoints and a synthesis toward understanding and consensus. It is a deliberative process, if still imbued into the structure of a standard three-minute pop song.

Let’s look at “With a Little Help From My Friends” as an example:

Would you believe in a love at first sight?

Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.

What do you see when you turn out the light?

I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,

Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,

Oh, I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends

That the song’s verse becomes a literal exchange between two voices demonstrates how dialogue helps move ideological bodies toward common visions, goals, understandings. It offers a problem-posing model of inquiry aligned with revolutionary pedagogical practice.

Similarly, “Hello Goodbye” finds the dialectic between opposing voices. The song is a one-sided take at the vexing process that often yields consensus. Talking with my advisor about the difficulties in determining content within my classroom, it’s clear that the dialectic between the “social justice” content and the necessary, “traditional” content is what’s at stake. A dialogue between these two, typically polarizing areas is the place for student exploration – the distance between the misunderstood “Goodbye” and the whimsical, portentous “Hello” is one that reflects this tension. Listen for the contradictory background vocals running throughout the second half of this song (“I say yes, but I may mean no” & “I can stay ‘til it’s time to go” as examples).

And again, while praise for the Beatles is not exactly in short supply – and yes there are those contrarians that downplay the influence of the Beatles or even claim that the Animals are their more preferred group (?!) – I think what I’m presently finding most interesting about the group is the way they embrace tension and conflict within songs. As I type, “Penny Lane” is playing in the background (I threw on The Magical Mystery Tour solely based on my ever-evolving fascination with “Your Mother Should Know”). What would have been a typical, plodding – and still highly successful – pop song is elevated by the inclusion of baroque instrumentation –a motif the Beatles would regularly revisit. The syrupy vocals of “Penny Lane” are thrown into discord by the unexpected French Horn. And then, later in the album, you hear the way the dialectic extends across time: “All You Need if Love” finds the Beatles reframing “She Loves You” and even Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” into a more contemporary vision of “love.” Likewise, “Glass Onion” on the White album revisits Lucy, the Walrus, and perpetuates the Paul is Dead hype.

I realize there are tomes and dissertations and academic gobbledygook that intellectualizes what the Beatles have done. And while most of this post may be cast-off as yet another example of academic navel gazing, I’m sincere in my efforts to point toward the pedagogical suggestions that Lennon and company are making; the revolutionary potential of the dialectic is one that can’t be downplayed here.

To conclude, I want to compare two statements. In “The Word,” the Beatles harmonize while singing, “Say the word and you’ll be free.” Similarly, Paulo Freire, in so many words explained that to name the word is to name the world. A literal change is made manifest through the power of literacy and the power of dialogue. I think it’s a vision shared by the Beatles and Freire and it’s a vision that we can share, together, as educators.

Book Room Discovery #2

Awesome dice that students can use to create crazy sentences.

At first there were just five or six dice hidden on shelves or collecting dust in the corner. And then, on the same day as Book Room Discovery #1, we found several plastic tupperware tubs filled with these dice. Just tons of them – still in plastic. Most of our intersession students enjoy manipulating the dice, creating sentences, rolling the dice and creating dada poetry, and (occasionally) taking the foam dice and creating a literal word war across the classroom.

Bookroom Discovery #1

As mentioned earlier, I’ve been helping out with an intersession class being taught in our school’s bookroom – a cavernous wonder of boxes, dust, and occasional cockroaches.

Mr. Carlson and I have found a few noteworthy discoveries during our time in the room. I will be highlighting two or three of them here.

The first discovery of note:

Yes, that’s 100 copies of The Making of the Rugrats Movie. It’s out of print, so, unless you’re at Manual Arts, you’re going to have to score your copy second hand. In any case, with a cover price of $25 each, I wonder what the story is behind these books (that are now 11 years old and never even taken out of the boxes). Often book publishers throw in extra reading books when our school makes a large textbook order, so these could have been such a situation. However, while I think we can find value in most books being available in our classes, could we have gotten a better use out of $2,500 in book value?

Outdated, severely below the age range of our high school students, and forgotten in the back of the bookroom, here’s yet another example of lack of communication and allocation of resources.

“It only jelps me which is very important. !!!”: On Blogging

If you have a spare moment, please check out the blog a group of intersession students is currently contributing to. All posts (aside from the sporadic teacher post from Mr. Carlson or myself) are written and (possibly) edited by the students. Yes, there will be occasional typos, grammatical, and spelling errors  – isn’t that part of the blogging experience?

In any case, the goal here is for these students to practice documenting and reflecting on the world from their own perspectives. Taking ownership over the news, literally creating the importance for the outsider to the Manual Arts world is a heavy burden. And the students are taking it in stride.

Teaching an intersession elective course at Manual requires overcoming significant challenges, three of which I want to address here:

Significant Intersession Elective Course Challenge (SIECC) 1: Getting the Class Funded

Although students are regularly offered classes when they go “off-track” on our year round schedule, the classes are primarily to make up failed classes. This year, in particular due to budget restrictions, LAUSD did not fund any intersession classes other than the bare minimum of graduate requirement make up classes. Though an intersession class isn’t expensive (a teacher is compensated for 60 hours of work per intersession course) – getting Manual Arts to offer this “Broadcast Journalism” course required the approval of our School Site Council. As a result, Mr. Carlson is able to teach the students for two hours a day over six weeks (I’m helping out a few days each week, but kudos go to Carlson for steering the class).

SIECC 2: Getting the Class Filled

Because students at our school aren’t regularly offered extracurricular off-track opportunities (especially B-Track, since summer internships and programs are offered while these students are just beginning their school year), retention and getting committed students is a challenge. The commitment comes with having an engaging class (again something that deserves a tip of the digital hat to Carlson). The students are mainly coming from my 11th and 12th grade English classes. Because most of these students are enrolled in my class and have likely had Mr. Carlson in the past, we have a strong group of students with a good rapport – the class is filled and rolling.

SIECC 3: Getting Space

Because of our large student population, getting funding for a class isn’t the end of our headache. We needed a room we could routinely use to teach the class. In the past, I’ve taught intersession courses off campus at heavily discounted fees, subsidized by our school’s network partners. This year, we found that a room was available because most teachers would rather travel than use it. In a small upstairs nook in our bookroom, the students are properly ventilated (thanks to the two fans Mr. Carlson bought and the one larger room fan I “borrowed” from the math lab), the students are able to get online (thanks to the numerous laptops we bring in as well as the three desktop computers working at glacial paces), and the students are able to use the space in a timely manner (discounting the lengthy walk to the back of the campus due to construction detours for a long overdue senior quad redesign project).

Before becoming our bookroom three years ago, the room was used as an industrial (“Manual”) arts or auto shop classroom (I get mixed reports). Photos below detail the classroom setting.

A view from our room, looking down on the rows of books.

A view from our room, looking down on the rows of books.

Looking up to our classroom from the back of the book room.

Looking up to our classroom from the back of the book room.

Oh, all those unopened boxes? Those are just leftover books from when our administration brought in Talent Development without School Site Council approval. No biggie.

Oh, all those unopened boxes? Those are just leftover books from when our administration brought in Talent Development without School Site Council approval. No biggie.

Of course, I’m not mentioning other, structural challenges such as difficulties with students accessing the campus while off-track or the constant technology headaches (thanks to Daye for amazing WordPress expertise!), but those will trickle through the more regular posts to come.

As our students continue to gain confidence in their reporting skills, you are encouraged to question and comment on their posts. In the coming weeks students will be podcasting reports on lockdown procedures for schools as well as distributing DVD news reports for local South Central events. Stay tuned!

p.s. Does anybody know what this is? It’s bolted into the book room since the book room wasn’t always a book room. But what is it??

Space: The Unacknowledged Frontier

The new school year has begun. I teach three 90-minute classes. One class has 39 students, the other two float comfortably in the low, mid-30s. I’m travelling between two classrooms – the class I use for two periods currently has no working AC – the heat is of a level that would help propel Kozol up the bestseller’s list if he were to document it.

In any case, all of this flux, change, and curmudgeony frustration with conditions has had me thinking about the “story” that our classroom spaces provide. As struggling-to-keep-our-heads-above-water teachers, classroom design is usually little more than doing our best to figure out how to cram class libraries in the limited bookshelves, how to arrange desks, and what posters to slap on the walls. That’s not a sleight to teachers – lord knows we can be spending our time on tons of activities that help improve instruction and student experience. However, when I look at the evolution of modern office spaces, I can’t help but wonder how this evolution can trickle into my classroom in South Central.

Similarly, I’ve been thinking about Joshua Prince-Ramus’ talk about the Seattle Library’s ultra-utilitarian design and wonder if there is a better lens to look at my four-walled space than the factory-oriented school model through which I’ve been inculcated; “Constraining Innovation” indeed.

Since studying narrative theory and mobile media through a generally awesome cognate course last quarter, I’ve been reading through this text on architecture, game play and space. Reading about ways that a place like Disneyland weaves narrative into space such that the guest is already well-immersed in an overarching narrative or theme well before ever sitting in the Haunted Mansion’s “ride,” for instance makes me think about how these kinds of spatial narratives are being disregarded within my school. In his essay in the book, Henry Jenkins quotes Disney Imagineer Don Carson saying, “The story element is infused into the physical space a guest walks or rides through. It is the physical space that does much of the work of conveying the story the designers are trying to tell.” He later writes that an iconic attraction like “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” is designed such that “the original tale provides ‘a set of rules that guide the design and project team to a common goal’ and help give structure and meaning to the visitor’s experience.” Sure, our school’s shift to uniforms this past year and repainting of offices helps send a kind of message or narrative to the students. However, is it one that is engaging? One that adds intrigue? One that poses problems to be solved? Encourages exploration?

Finally, Lev Manovich writes about the potential of “augmented space.” I’m still working through this. As I continue to ponder the prospects of a CryptoZoo invasion in South Central (as an ongoing 11th grade project), I wonder how the differences between immersion and augmentation can be looked at within a portable “bungalow” with no AC.

I’m A Teacher … Get Me Out of Here!

As LAUSD continues to layoff some of the best teachers I know, I wonder how effective any of the multi-pronged union efforts has been. Strikes (legal, illegal, “wildcat”, hunger, sit-ins, you name it) get piddles of press here and there. While I’m not comfortable yet in fully speculating on the direction of UTLA, LAUSD, or the future of Manual Arts. I did want to share a quote that’s about a year and a half old:

“I’ve always been a teacher. That’s the highest of the hierarchy. That’s not the bottom it’s what it’s all about. We’ve lost sight of that.”

In case you’re wondering, that is indeed Superintendent Ray Cortines in an interview Travis Miller and I conducted when Cortines was working with the Mayor’s Partnership. Funny how the quote reads differently in light of the changes that have taken place.

I’ve linked to this interview a few other times on this blog, but thought I’d post the actual thing here to make it easier to reference. The focus of the interview was local autonomy. However, there’s plenty here that speaks to the dire situation for teachers and students today.  Full interview after the jump.

Continue reading

In Lieu of an Update

It being finals week for me (and it also being finals week for my students in a couple of weeks), I’m a bit behind on the blogging thing. Things should start back up next week. In the meantime, the Google Waves announcement is going to help change collaboration within my classroom. I’m truly stoked about the implications this will have in an educational context (assuming LAUSD will actually let me get through to create Waves … Gmail and Google Docs are currently blocked …).

If you’re like me you probably don’t think you have an hour plus to spend watching a YouTube video about some over-hyped Google thing. Then again, I’d recommend finding the time: http://wave.google.com/.

“… Cut off by the devil white man from all true knowledge”: On Making Sense of Malcolm One Page At a Time

I’m currently in the midst of a revamped unit with my 11th graders involving concurrently analyzing The Autobiography of Malcolm X and The Broken Spears. We’ll be reading additional texts and watching films related to Thoreau, Subcomandante Marcos, Gandhi, the South Central Farmers, and whatever else we can cram into the next few weeks before the school year ends. I thought I’d share a resource I used in setting up this unit as well as a strategy I attempted in conjunction with this resource.
I guess now is as good a time as any to make this confession: I like to rasterbate. Uploading images to the online rasterbator, a PDF of the image stretched to the size of your preference is created. It’s an instant poster maker and the effect it has is a useful (and cheap) resource for decorating a classroom. That said, I decided to experiment with simple game play using a rasterbated image. As students filed into my class at the beginning of the quarter, I handed each of them two random sheets of paper, announcing that they all held pieces of a puzzle and needed to (preferably quickly) assemble the puzzle on a wall.

Period 2 struggles to put the puzzle together.

Period 2 struggles to put the puzzle together.

Period 3 doesnt do much better...

Period 3 doesn't do much better...

The simple experiment yielded a couple of useful insights: my kids took way longer assembling the puzzle than I thought they would. The dynamics of collaboration that I was hoping for not only sprang to life but helped garner additional buy-in from some of the quieter students in the class. Further, the sense of ownership of the picture by the students was powerful. We were able to analyze numerous components of the iconic photograph of Malcolm X (once it was revealed) as the students were looking at the picture from a well-developed perspective. (On a side note it is interesting that both classes that assembled the picture immediately guessed that it would be a picture of Obama once finished…) Though the students didn’t read a lengthy introduction or fill out an initial KWL chart about Malcolm, they were able to articulate their prior knowledge as well as any questions or thoughts that arose during the activity. By the time I handed each student her or his own copy of the book to mark up and write their names in, the students were prepared to engage in dialogue with the leader they spent 30 minutes assembling; even if I thought it was 15 minutes too long, the time still felt well spent.

A completed puzzle [sheets taped sideways are not the result of improper teaching!]

Pedagogy of Chisme

This past weekend, I attended a retirement celebration for my godfather, Jorge Huerta. Though I’ve always known of Jorge’s outstanding reputation as a scholar and teacher, I’ve better known him and my godmother Ginger as close confidants and family.

In a packed theater at UCSD, I better learned about my connection to the loved educator and appreciated what one speaker called Jorge’s “Pedagogy of Chisme.” As the preeminent scholar in Chicano Theater, Jorge’s passion helps fuel the work and vivacity of a movement. As Luis Valdez said in the evening, the playwright found his reflection in Jorge and the two have been working closely since shortly after Luis Valdez’s founding of El Teatro Campesino. Valdez said that Jorge illustrates the function of the scholar in a living breathing movement. And I think this is why I felt so inspired on Saturday; of course I’m immensely proud of the academic contributions that Jorge’s work represents (I remember struggling as a first year undergraduate student reading one of Jorge’s texts and cobbling together the academic writing with the myriad dinner-table stories shared and the outlandish tales my father would share of traveling with a teatro). However, more importantly, Jorge’s work helps frame the way that teaching, directing, and something as seemingly benign as theater (at least as it’s viewed by public school districts today) can be revolutionary.

Similarly, Cherríe Moraga inspired me with her call for more of what’s become a “scarce commodity”: diálogo. She spoke of the acceptance she found through dialogue with Jorge when others were less accepting of a Chicana lesbian playwright. She spoke plainly of not always agreeing with Jorge and of needing to continue to challenge one another, a challenge I see within the education community to provoke ourselves. I was reminded of my own advisor’s call for us – as scholars – to prove that critical pedagogy, cultural modeling, and all of that “stuff” that we so firmly believe works in the classroom actually works. In Moraga’s call for dialogue – and in her enunciation of the role of desire in our work as scholars as teachers – I recognized the continued landscape of hard work ahead for educators at large.

While many bemoaned the fact that Jorge and Ginger are leaving San Diego in the coming months, I’m more than excited that my godparents will be in Los Angeles (and even more thrilled to mooch amazing meals on a regular basis). I’m excited about the possibilities that loom in the future for Jorge, as he is loosened from a “corporate university.” And I’m excited about regularly trying to wrangle him into discussing Chicano Theater with my students. I’m excited about the infinite-spiral path of empty fullness we take as we move forward as teachers, students, scholars, and citizens of a global society.